


Scaredy Cat

by bothromeoandjuliet



Series: Spooky Times Jeronica Week (Wicked Jeronica) [3]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Jughead's scared, Really it's a lot of fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Veronica gets stood up so you know that it's a AU, the couple that reads together stays together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bothromeoandjuliet/pseuds/bothromeoandjuliet
Summary: This story ends with Jughead standing alone, on his porch, in the rain. And to think that he might never have gotten there if it hadn't been for Toni's dare.





	Scaredy Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Oneshot 3/7 for Spooky times Jeronica Week! I really enjoyed writing this one, and am so glad that I finally get to share it with all of you!! The prompt is Terror Tales
> 
> Comments welcomed and greatly appreciated!! <3<3<3

It had started with a book—and Jughead’s inability to refuse a dare.

“Jones!” Toni cried, falling into the stool next to him at the White Whyrm “Jughead Jones, my very dear and very stubborn friend; do I have the thing for you.”

“What do you want from me, Toni?” Jughead asked, barely glancing up from his computer.

“Want from you? Who says that I want something from you?"

“I do, because you always seem to want something from me when I’ve finally hit a good writing streak.”

“True; but today I have something you’ll really enjoy. Let’s call it a—a proposition.”

Jughead groaned. His fingers had begun to stumble over the keyboard, and his brief flash of inspiration had ended for the moment. He closed his laptop, and side-eyed Toni.

“What sort of proposition?”

“One that comes with both monetary gain _and_ bragging rights.”

Toni watched Jughead as her words took affect. He gnawed at his lip, considering, then took a long sip from his soda before saying,

“Fine. I’ll bite—what is it?”

Toni grinned and pulled an old, dog-eared book from her purse—handing it over to Jughead with unmistakable glee.

“Nightmares, and Other Things That Go Bump In the Night.” Jughead read aloud, then scoffed.

“This is a book of horror stories, Toni. Horror stories from—judging by the cover art—the nineteen-sixties, no less.”

“True, and while I normally would agree with your quick assessment, this particular book has more to it then you would think.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” glancing around and leaning closer to Jughead in a conspiratorial fashion “not a single person has been able to read it all the way through.”

“What, is it seriously that boring?.”

“No, it’s not because it’s boring, you dumb-ass. Nobody’s been able to finish it because it’s too frightening!”

Jughead glanced skeptically from the book, to Toni, then back again.

“Frightening. Really?”

“Okay, I’m going to need you to turn down the judgement by like, a hundred, and listen to me. When Fangs first gave me the book I was as skeptical as you. I thought that by taking the dare I would basically be getting free cash—but I’ve had it for over a week now, and I can’t do it anymore.”

“Toni, it’s just a book. It can’t possibly be that bad.”

“I know that it sounds crazy, Jughead, but it’s really gotten to me; and Fangs and I aren’t the only ones. This thing has been all around school and nobody’s been able to finish it.”

Jughead narrowed his eyes at her, but Toni’s face remained sincere, so, with a long sigh, he stuck out his hand to shake.

“Alright, fine. I’l give it a go, but you owe me free Pops for the rest of the month once I finish it.”

* * *

When Jughead had first started the book everything had been fine. Sure the stories where fairly dark and a bit longer then Jughead was used to short stories being, but he hadn’t been actually disturbed.

But then, around the third day of reading, something had happened. He couldn’t describe it really, other then that there was a strange sense of foreboding to everything he did, whether he was at home, or school, or even Pops—it didn’t matter. Jughead couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that someone or something was about to jump out and attack him.

It was midnight on a Friday; Jughead had just gotten a fresh serving of fries and nearly finished his latest short story—one about a man who kept finding bones in his dresser drawer. Rain dashed against the windows, and the wind blew hard against the siding. Pop Tate had disappeared into the office after giving Jughead his order and the rest of the diner was completely deserted—not all that surprising given the time—leaving Jughead alone.

“The man reached for the dresser handle…” he murmured aloud, reaching over to his plate to grab a fry.

“I’m sorry, the man did what now?"

To say that Jughead jumped was an understatement. He jerked so violently that he accidentally shoved his plate halfway across the table; his eyes bulged, and he actually felt his butt lift away from the torn vinyl of the booth.

“What the hell, Lodge! You could at least try to announce yourself—you almost gave me a freaking heart attack!”

“Why, was the ringing of the door as I came in, or me actually saying ‘Hey, Jughead.’ not enough for you?”

“You said that?”

“I did, and you responded by saying, ‘the man reached for the dresser handle,’ much to my confusion and bewilderment.”

“Bewilderment means the same thing as confusion, which means that you verbally canceled yourself out.” Jughead grumbled, pulling his plate back over to him and screwing himself tighter into the corner of the booth.

“Can I at least sit with you if you’re going to lecture me about word usage?”

Jughead shrugged, looking up over his book at her as she sat down, and whistled at the sight of her bright blue dress.

“And just what is Veronica Lodge doing, down at Pops, at midnight, on a Friday night, dressed like that? You get stood up or something?”

“Not that I really feel like talking about—but yes.”

“That’s not possible; you sure you got the time right?"

“Well, he was supposed to pick me up at the Pembrooke,” pulling her phone our of her pocket and glancing at the time, “an hour and a half ago, so either I got the day wrong or he simply got a better offer.”

“Then you?” Jughead asked incredulously.

Veronica looked up at him sharply and frowned.

“Don’t try to be complimentary Jughead; it just comes off as insulting. Besides, at least I’ve learned my lesson to never let Archie set me up on a blind date again.”

“Archie found you a blind date?”

“Tried to. He met the guy at some football match in Greendale and thought that he and I would really hit it off.”

“Well, clearly he was wrong about that.”

“Clearly.”

Veronica sighed, leaning her elbows onto the table and propping her head up in her hands; her gaze vacantly resting on the book that Jughead still held in his hand.

“What is that?”

“What’s what?”

“That book that you’re reading. You’ve practically been glued to that thing for the past three days, and ever since I’ve seen you reading, you’ve been acting stranger and stranger.”

“It’s just a—a book of horror stories that Toni dared me to read. Apparently nobody else has been able to get through it.”

“Is it really all that scary?”

“Not to me.” Jughead lied, skimming through the last paragraph of the story.

Veronica watched him silently as he read, her eyes studying him, and after he had finished, she stole a fry from his plate and said, laughing,

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not!” Jughead exclaimed indigently “What possibly make you think that I was lying?”

“Um, maybe the fact that you jumped about five feet in the air when you finally noticed me? Or maybe because you’ve been shaking like a leaf ever since I sat down?”

“And maybe you are the one who caused those things, did you think about that?”

“No, I didn’t, because I know you and you know me, and there is no earthly reason why you would be shaking because of me. Come on now, give it to me.” reaching across the table and pulling the book from Jughead’s hand.

“Hey, wait—no—Veronica you’re going to lose my place!”

“Page 237, ‘The Voice In the Attic,’ right?”

“Well yeah, but I need it back—I have a bet going with Toni that I’ll finish it, and I can’t do that if you take it.”

Veronica smiled, and flipped through a few more pages before answering.

“Don’t worry, Jughead. You’re going to win your bet, so stop stressing. Although,” pausing and looking up at him reflectively “experiencing the constant amount of fear that you have been would be make it pretty easy for you to be stressed.”

“I told you, I’m not frightened by some stupid stories.”

“Yes, you are, and you know what? It’s okay that you’re scared—normal, even. But you shouldn’t be having to struggle through it alone, and thanks to me, you won’t have to.”

“Why not?”

“Because, we are going to read the rest of this book together. We can take turns reading aloud from it, you can have someone to talk to about the stories and I get something to do with my free time that doesn’t involve sitting on the internet or taking yet another load of shifts here.” returning to Jughead’s original page,

Veronica looked up at him expectantly, “You in or not?”

“…Fine, I’ll do it—but this stays between us, alright?”

“I won’t say a word.” Veronica promised, “So shall we begin?”

* * *

That was the night that it had truly begun—that damp night at Pops, with both Jughead and Veronica feeling like they were the only two people in the world. At first they didn’t stray beyond the comfortable anonymity of a booth at Pops, but after the first few meetings their horizons began to widen.

There were dark corners at the public library, secret spots by Sweetwater River that Veronica had never seen before; that Jughead hadn’t explored since he was a child, there was Fred Andrews’ truck on late nights, there was even hours spent in Jughead’s trailer, when his dad wasn’t there, which was often.

But there was never blacked out drives in the back of Veronica’s limo, and there never, _never_ was a single moment spent inside the walls of the Pembrooke. Jughead had never suggested it, and Veronica had never offered, so he mentally but it on a ‘Do Not Consider’ list and left it alone—much like he left Veronica’s reasons for wanting to hide away from the world alone—or his own emotions toward the whole situation.

But the number of pages between them and the end of the book shrunk, and as the number shrunk, so did Jughead’s eagerness to finish the book.

At first he had tried to ignore it; his excitement whenever the time for he and Veronica’s sessions was close, and his annoyance at them ending. He had tried not to stare at Veronica when she laid, on her stomach, on his bed, her legs kicking up into the air, with the late afternoon sunlight dancing over her, and that small, hardly there, section of her bare back that exposed itself when her top—inevitably—untucked itself from her skirt.

But trying and succeeding was not the same, and before long Jughead had a new struggle to face. Because there wasn’t any reason for him to touch Veronica, none at all really, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself from doing so.

It started when on of the stories had had illustrations; illustrations that Veronica had just as much right to see as Jughead did. But with a picture on almost every other page, it had made reading rather slow going, so of course the most sensible solution was for Veronica to sit next to Jughead on the couch, leaning her head on his shoulder, or maybe just on his lap completely, which his arms wrapped around her and the top of Veronica’s head tucked under Jughead’s chin.

And then of course there were the completely normal, playful touches, and the hugs hello and goodbye, and Veronica’s hair, which always seemed to be falling into her face when Jughead was at the perfect distance and position to tuck it back behind her ear. So many little things that separately wouldn’t have meant a thing, but when piled together began to look an awful lot like something, something that was complicated, and messy, so Jughead shut his eyes to it, and continued to allow himself to live in blissful ignorance.

But ignorance cannot last forever, and one day Jughead came—at last—to the final page, who’s glaring blankness tied a knot of disappointment in his stomach.

They were sitting together in an empty classroom—one of the scientific variety if the sinks and empty glass cases were anything to go by—skipping the beginning of their lunch period.

Veronica—who had been the listener this time around—was laying with her head in Jughead’s lap, looking up towards the ceiling, or, she would have been if her eyes had been open, but the weren’t. They were closed, with her lashes fanning out across her cheekbones, and her lips parted just enough for her to breath through them.

“Is that all? Do you want me to read the next one?”

“There isn’t a next one to read.” Jughead answered, looking away hastily as Veronica opened her eyes.

“What, you mean that we finally finished it?” sitting up and smoothing down any fly-aways that may have escaped her curls “Then you should go tell Toni and claim your prize, I suppose.”

“I suppose I should.”

Jughead didn’t look at Veronica as he spoke, but he saw her bite down on her lip all the same and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to read a lip bite, so instead of saying anything else Jughead remained sullenly silent, shoving the book into his bag and rising hurriedly to his feet, leaving Veronica sitting on the floor.

“Well, let me know how it goes. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you pretty regularly at Pops now.”

"Yeah, maybe." he responded, leaving the room and Veronica without another word.

He found Toni in the cafeteria, sitting with Sweetpea and Fangs, and stormed up to her, dropping the book on the table with a bang.

“Well, well, Jughead Jones, as I live and breath. You finally admitting defeat?”

“No need to. I finished it.”

Toni stared up at him, her expression shocked.

“Jones, I told you. No-one’s ever finished this—“

“Until me. I finished it, which means that this little bet of our’s is finished too.”

“I have to admit, Jughead, I didn’t think you manage to do it. Guess that’s what I get for betting against F.P’s kid. Meet me after school at Pops?”

Out of the corner of his eye Jughead saw Veronica walk up to Betty and Archie’s table, a large smile plastered on her face and a laugh already leaving her mouth.

“No, no Pops. I don’t want the earnings from this bet.”

And with that Jughead turned away, leaving the sounds of the noisy cafeteria behind him.

* * *

“I’ll be back later.” Jughead’s dad assured him, zipping up his jacket.

Jughead nodded silently, he knew better then to expect his dad back from the White Whyrm on most nights, but with the sheets of rain that had been pouring down for the last hour, he had little to no expectations of seeing his dad again anytime before after school tomorrow.

“Make sure you lock up, I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Got it.”

F.P. nodded, giving the strap under his chin a final tug and heading out the front door, closing it behind him with a bang and seconds later Jughead heard his dad’s motorcycle roar off into the night.

He sighed, and, after locking the door, went back to his computer, finally having returned to writing his story that Toni had interrupted weeks ago. The tv made white noise in the background, the rain fell hard against the roof, and Jughead did his best to not think.

About fifteen minutes later, however, Jughead was interrupted by the sound of knocking.

He stood up, and walking over to the door saw that his dad had left his wallet on the counter. Jughead grabbed it and unlocked the door, saying, “Yes dad, your wallet’s right here so you don’t need to—Veronica?”

“Hey Jughead.” said Veronica, who was dripping wet and shaking from the cold.

“Veronica, what are you doing—get in here.”

“No, I—I can’t stay, I’m supposed to be meeting Betty—but I had to see you.”

“Why?” Jughead asked, stepping out to join her in the rain and dragging his jean jacket around her shoulders.

“Well that’s—it’s a bit hard to explain—I just…” Veronica halted and looked fully up into Jughead’s face.

“Jughead, I’m gonna kiss you.”

“What do you mean you’re going to—“ Jughead began, only to be cut off by Veronica gripping his collar and pulling him down to her.

She pulled away almost instantly, blushing so much that Jughead could actually see it, despite the darkness, but before she could say anything Jughead had moved forward, settling his hands on either side of her face, and stepping forward until Veronica had bumped into the porch railing, at which point they separated again, embarrassed and laughing.

“Not that I’m adverse to this, but Veronica why…when—“

“Shh!” putting a finger to his lips “I can’t explain now, Betty’s waiting, but I will call you—tonight or tomorrow—or we’ll talk at school—“

The limo’s horn beeped and Veronica hurried down the stairs, calling out, “I’ll see you later, okay? And we’ll talk, I promise!” then disappearing into the car and being driven away into the blackness, leaving Jughead dazzled on his front stoop, unsure if what had just happened was real.


End file.
